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The Myths of Growing Up

Here I find myself again, twenty six years later at an old high school haunt, The Church Inn, catching up with old school chums and reminiscing of times long past. Forty four years of age and older and wiser as the wear of life's unexpected events turned to us all, we had mostly seen each other mature from the tender age of twelve; developing at different stages amongst the confusion of hormones and fitting in.

Despite the headiness and bleary sightedness of several rum and cokes with wine and cider aplenty, we had talked of fumbling through early adulthood cluelessly, unleashed into the great wide world with naive curiosity and new friends, to achieve and reach the milestones in the ‘Game of Life’, to go onto university, to find ‘the love of our life’, to endure broken hearts and pursue rosey careers, grand weddings and healthy offspring.

Indeed we had pursued those things set upon us, but it had turned out not as plain sailing as the illusions of growing up. Life had thrown unexpected curve balls onto each of us, those that were not catered in our future plans, or choices that in hindsight had not been good for our souls, constantly evolving as we confront ourselves and those around us in the daily routines of existing. If only life had been as easy for the six of us, as it had seemingly been for so many other past peers.

The rules had not readied us for the abusive relationships, the divorces or mental and physical conditions set individually onto us or that of our children. For some, children had not been an option, so cruelly taken away in a world where parenting should not be such a right for few. Others had given up on finding that elusive soul mate. We had sympathised with the struggles and strives, felt disconnected to those who had breezed through the game yet complained over such trivial matters. From the innocent beings that we were, each of us had grown into ourselves, became the people that we are, rather than one defined by our pasts.

We had learnt of each other's strives over social media, embracing its technology having grown up with tape cassettes and vinyl discs, MTV, VHS date nights in and handwritten letters, not to mention the restrictions of plugged analogue telephone systems. It has been times before the great World Wide Web and instant connectivity.

“If only we had camera phones back then!” Steve had retorted, reminiscent of drunken stupors in the plight to stumble home. “Thank goodness we didn't!” Dee had gasped, both speaking with newfound English accents, their Cardiffian slants eradicated having settled away.





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